Exile
by justareader13
Summary: The house was small but it was nice, just like the new place they had found themselves in. He looked over at Sam as he silently looked around the room. He hadn't said much since they left South Africa, hell he hadn't said much since the Raft. He was silent choosing to stare rather than talk to Steve.


The house was small but it was nice, just like the new place they had found themselves in. Steve hadn't even known Aleksashkina or the island borough of Kodiak existed until Sharon pointed him towards one of Peggy's safe-houses in Alaska the last time he saw her in South Africa. That had been after he left Bucky in Wakanda and set off to find Wanda, Sam, Clint and Scott. King T'Challa had given him enough resources to rescue them and get by for a reasonable amount of time after that. Clint had been reunited with Laura and his kids in Johannesburg and, thanks to Maria, was now situated at a safe house there. Wanda chose to stay with them since they were practically family to her. Scott was able to get into contact with Hank Pym who got him back to San Francisco in the kind of secrecy only a billionaire like him could attain. Sam stayed with Steve. Then again, Steve wasn't going to let Sam out of his sight for a very long time, not unless he wanted it. So, with the coordinates in hand, Steve got the two of them to their new home.

It was one story and decorated generically. There was two bedrooms and a bathroom. The kitchen and dining room were combined to the living room in an open floor plan. There were no photos or any real personal things that made it a home but it was just a safe house, Peggy wasn't making her life here so it wouldn't seem very lived in. The fridge was bare but Steve figured he'd go to the market at some point and see what he could find.

He looked over at Sam as he silently looked around the room. He hadn't said much since they left South Africa, hell he hadn't said much since the Raft. The most he had done was engage in small talk on the drive to the airport and then he had fallen asleep on the plane. He was silent the whole ferry ride, choosing to stare at the water rather than talk to Steve. The blonde sighed to himself before reaching out to poke Sam's arm. The other man looked at him blankly.

"It's not so bad, right? We can spruce it up, make it ours." Steve said in a hopeful tone.

"Why?" Sam asked flatly.

"Will we really be here long? We're fugitives, I figured we'd be moving around a lot." He said.

"Is that what you want?" Steve asked.

"Right now, I want a shower." Sam said before walking away without another word. Steve rubbed his hand over his face as he sighed again. He decided to leave Sam be and went to the living room to locate the safe under the coffee table rug. He opened it and got to the money stashed away before he made his way to the closest market.

With the help of the owner of the small market, a lovely middle aged woman named Lorna, he picked out fish and potatoes as well as some other essentials to last them the week at least. On a whim, he also bought some forget-me-nots. Maybe he could brighten Sam's mood up with them.

When he returned, Sam was still in the bathroom. It had been twenty minutes and usually Sam's showers were a lot shorter. Steve didn't hear anything with his hearing zoned out, no movement or splashing. He was hit with blind panic for a moment. What if someone had come and taken Sam? Steve made a beeline for the door and pushed it open, ignoring how the hinges and locks rattled in protest. Sam's head shot up from the side of the tub and he stared at him through blurry vision.

"What are you doing?" He asked, his voice cracking with the remnants of his nap.

"I..."

"Did you just break the door?" Steve looked back at it. The top hinge was hanging off and the knob was a lost cause.

"I... I was worried."

"About what?"

"You've been in here a while, I thought you drowned or something." Steve said, trying to keep his tone light and joking but Sam seemed more confused than amused.

"It's stupid, don't worry. I'm making dinner when you're ready." He said. He quickly walked away before Sam could say anything else. Steve busied himself with frying up the fish and sliced potatoes for their dinner while Sam remained ever elusive. Fortunately, he appeared when Steve called him for dinner. They sat mostly silent as they ate. It felt foreign to Steve. Usually, they'd be engaging in conversation with each other about one thing or other. He wasn't used to Sam being this silent.

"Um, so I was thinking we could go out. Tomorrow, of course. Just to explore and see what's around this place." Steve suggested. Sam made a noncommittal grunt in response.

"And we should have escape routes planned out." Steve tacked on, hoping that would move Sam.

"Fine." Steve shook his head and looked back down at his food. They sat silent for another two minutes before Steve couldn't take it again and spoke once more.

"I haven't heard anything from Natasha." Sam looked at him with quiet inquiry.

"She helped Bucky and I get out of the airport. I'm sure Tony and, more importantly, Secretary Ross would've heard about that. I'm just worried what might happen to her and everyone else."

"She doesn't need you, she can take care of herself."

"I know that. I'm just... worried." Steve trailed off. She wasn't the only person he was worried about either. He sighed to himself and rubbed his hand over his face.

"Sam, I... I'm sorry okay?" Sam gave him a quizzical look.

"I'm sorry for dragging you into this. I should've never—"

"Don't. I made my decision, you didn't make it for me. Believe it or not, I didn't make it just because of you. I don't need an apology. I don't regret it." That was the most Sam had said in a while and Steve wasn't about to invalidate anything he said so he just nodded in understanding. Sam nodded back before returning to his food. Steve was about to return to his when he remembered the flowers.

"Oh, I got these for you. I saw them and I thought you might like them." He said, grabbing the forget-me-nots from the counter and walking back over to Sam. Sam rewarded him with a smile as he took the deep violet flowers from him. It was a small thing, barely noticeable if you weren't paying attention, but Steve's breath still caught on it along with the momentary lightness in Sam's eyes.

"Thank you." Steve smiled before finally digging back into the fish and chips. Maybe everything would be okay. He was probably just overreacting. Sam had been through a lot but it was nothing they couldn't get through.

* * *

Steve was seriously reconsidering his optimism of a week and a few days' past. He managed to coax Sam out of the house to explore the surrounding areas but that was about it. He barely saw him and it left him wondering if there were hidden sections of the house that Sam discovered unbeknownst to him. He stayed holed up in his room except to eat or shower and whenever Steve tried talking to him he was mostly met with silence. That's what he was facing right now.

Steve and Sam sat silently across from each other eating their lunch. Fish _again_. It was starting to feel like they ate fish for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Largely because they did. One of the downsides of living in an Alaskan ocean town was being confined to mostly cold water seafood which mostly consisted of tuna, whitefish, salmon, halibut and sardines, maybe the odd crab or pound of shrimp if Steve had the money to splurge and Lorna had it available. She usually didn't. Apparently, the haul hadn't been that great lately.

Sam was used to seafood, his grandparents being from New Orleans, but not like this. He was used to crawfish, oysters, squid, lobster and catfish. Even though he could still get all the salmon his heart desired, Steve couldn't make it like Sam liked and Sam didn't have the motivation to make it himself so they hit a stalemate when it came to food. They would sit at the table together and Steve would eat while Sam would push around his meal with his fork.

"You should eat." Steve told him.

"I'm not hungry." He said, his voice sounding as if his mind was drifting miles away from where they were. Steve put down his fork and gave Sam his full attention.

"Are you okay?" He asked, his voice full of concern.

"I'm fine." Sam replied tiredly.

"Are you sure?" Steve pressed.

"Yes, I'm just over eating fish."

"I know, I'm sorry."

"About what?"

"Us being here, it's—"

"Please don't finish that sentence. I don't have the energy for your martyr complex right now. Some things are just not about you." Sam said, mild annoyance slipping past his neutral mask. Steve drew back, half-offended and half-confused. They sat in silence for another minute or two before Steve broke it once more.

"You know, you really should eat." Steve pressed.

"I said I don't want it."

"I can—"

"I don't want you to do anything. I said I'm not hungry. What? Do you want to tie a bib around my neck and feed me? Just back off." Steve stared at him wide-eyed drawing a scoff from the other man.

"And there you go. I've known you for three years, I know that look on your face. You're thinking up ways that you can make all this your fault because that's what you do. If you don't have some burden to bear you don't know what to do with yourself. Do you have any idea how annoying that is? How annoying it is to have to keep saying 'it's not your fault' before I start to sound like a broken record to myself?" Sam said, pushing his chair out from under the table, grabbing his plate and walking it the few steps to the kitchen. Steve watched him dump the food in the garbage and nearly smash the dish dropping it into the sink. He thought Sam was going to storm off to his room but he abruptly turned back and stared down at Steve.

"Fine. You wanna be Atlas so badly? You want to thrive off guilt? I'll give you something to feel guilty about because this has been bothering me ever since Lagos and I never got a chance to ask you about it so I'm going to ask you now: what did Rumlow say to you?" Steve felt himself stiffen slightly.

"I know you spoke to each other before he tried to blow up the marketplace but I couldn't hear what he was saying. What was it?" Steve grit his teeth and looked down.

"If it's what I think it is..." Sam trailed off, leaving that threat hanging in the air.

"He told me that Bucky—"

"Of fucking course." Sam said, cutting him off. He abruptly turned around to storm off to his room.

"Sam." Steve grabbed his hand to stop him. Sam tore his hand free from him, glaring with fire in his eyes.

" _Don't_ say a word to me. Don't even _think_ about speaking to me right now." Steve watched him march off down the hall. He slammed the door to his bedroom so hard the house shook with the force of it. Steve sat shocked staring at the closed doors before his eyes drifted back to the table. Sam had put the forget-me-nots in a vase, the only effort he had made to personalize the house. The flowers were wilted and nearly dead now. Steve stared at them before clenching his jaw. He knew what Sam wanted: he wanted a fight. He couldn't figure out why but he wasn't about to sit here and let this thing simmer any longer. He stood up from his seat and followed Sam into the room he'd designated as his own. Sam rolled his eyes upon Steve entering the room.

"You really don't know when to give up."

"No, I'm not going to just give up. You don't want me to have this "Atlas complex"? You want a fight? Fine by me. But you're going to talk to me and tell me why you're so mad at me."

"You mean beyond the reckless endangerment of your life and others just because Rumlow mentioned Bucky?"

"I hadn't heard anything about Bucky in almost a year, Sam. A year. Was it stupid to let Rumlow distract me like that? Yes, it was. And Wanda along with 11 other people paid for that. I will never stop being sorry about that. But which one is it? Do you want me to be sorry, or don't you?"

"And not telling me about Tony's parents? I'm your partner, you don't think that's something you mention to me?" Sam asked, ignoring Steve's question.

"How and when was I supposed to bring that up? Hey Sam, you want pancakes for breakfast or waffles? By the way, my best friend killed another one of my friends' parents and I've been keeping it a secret from everyone. Besides, If I didn't tell Tony first, what right did I have to tell you?"

"You didn't tell Tony either!"

"He's a mess most days. I didn't want to break him and in the end I did anyway."

"And Sharon? Since you're so full of excuses, what's your justification for that?"

"Oh please, it was a kiss, I'm not marrying her. _You_ can't blame me Sharon anyway." Steve replied indignantly.

"Oh, can't I?"

"Did Tonsberg completely slip your mind?" Steve asked incredulously.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the fact that I asked you... I wanted... I told you how I felt and _you_ said I wasn't ready."

"Steve—"

"No! _You_ said it wasn't a good idea because we were too close to each other and I was too emotional and probably confused and whatever other bullshit excuses you pulled out of your ass. _You_ put that on _me_ and made a decision for _us_."

"Because you were pining for Bucky the whole time and I wasn't about to be his replacement! Now you want to put the fact that you go and kiss your ex-girlfriend's niece a couple of days after her funeral on me? Real standup guy you are, Steve. If I happen to fall terminally ill, I'll be sure to pass my sister's number on to you so you can have a back-up."

"You're really going to say that to me like you're not doing the same thing?"

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Don't act like you don't know. Look me in my eyes and tell me there has never been a time where you've looked at me and seen Riley. Tell me to my face that I'm not your attempt at replacing him." Sam stared at him with shocked disbelief.

"Fuck you, man. Fuck you, Steve." Sam hissed at him.

"If you hate me so damn much and can't stand being in a room with me, why did you even come here with me? You could've stayed with Clint in Johannesburg or gone with Scott back to America, you could've seen your mom again. Instead you're here with me. Why?" Sam didn't offer him an answer, instead he stormed past him.

"Where are you going?" Steve asked as Sam grabbed his jacket from the hanger near the door.

"Out. If I stare at your face any more, I'm going to punch it and I don't feel like breaking my hand." Sam replied before grabbing his keys and slamming the door. Steve kissed his teeth and returned to the table attacking his food more than eating it.

He stared at the wilted forget-me-nots on the table before grabbing the vase and throwing it at the garbage where it effortlessly landed inside.

* * *

Sam didn't return for a few hours and Steve used that time to calm down. He hadn't wanted to run Sam off but he also didn't want to spend whatever time they had not saying what they really wanted to and letting that break them down. Steve had a lot to atone for, his hands weren't clean and he would never say they were. He couldn't make amends with everyone but he definitely didn't want to ever alienate Sam from his life. All Steve really wanted was for them to level with each other and move on from there. There was things Steve just wanted to talk to Sam about. Like his time in the Raft and what happened at the airport after Steve and Bucky left and what their plans for the future, however unknown said future was, would be. They had always been able to talk to each other about things ranging from serious to silly. Steve wanted that back.

While his mood calmed, the weather outside did the opposite. The wind picked up as the temperature in the house steadily declined to make even Steve uncomfortable. He found himself worrying about Sam, pacing around the living room and looking outside ever so often as day turned to night. Just as he was about to go to his room and grab his jacket so he could go look for him the front door swung open and slammed against the wall behind it. Sam came in a moment later and shoved the door closed, fighting against the howling wind. Steve stood up from the couch he had been sitting on and stared at him as he toed off his shoes and pulled off his jacket.

"I made dinner. Shrimp, not fish." Steve said. Sam nodded silently and walked to the kitchen without looking at him.

"Where'd you go?" Steve asked. He half expected Sam to lash out at him over the question.

"For a walk. I needed air, however frozen it was. Came back when the storm winds got too bad. I made sure the gutters were clear and put the trashcans in the shed by the way." Sam said, scooping some rice and shrimp onto his plate before sitting down to eat. That was more than Steve had seen him eat in some time.

"I'll... nail down the shutters." Steve said. Sam nodded again in response. Steve began walking away before he paused.

"I meant it, you know." Sam glanced at him questioningly.

"You don't have to be here. And I'm not saying that to start a fight. I know you said choosing my side was your choice and I am not going to take that away from you. But being here with me? You don't need to be. I can be alone, I can handle that. I can contact Hill and get you a place of your own or get you transportation to Clint or Scott. Even to Wakanda if you want, maybe even your mom. I'll have to pull some major strings but I can do it. I can do it for you." Sam stared at him silently for a moment.

"Is that what you want? You want me gone?"

"I..." Steve trailed off into a humorless chuckle.

"I want _you_ , Sam. That's always been what I wanted. I'll take it however that looks, but I don't want you here if you don't want to be here or if it's not healthy for you." Sam looked back down at his food, shuffling one of the shrimps around on his plate.

"Sam?"

"I'm not going anywhere so just forget about it. You should go deal with shutters before the storm starts." Steve opened his mouth and closed it again before nodding walking off.

He nailed the shutters closed, shivering in the freezing wind as he did so despite his parka and naturally raised body temperature. When he got back into the house there was a cup of hot chocolate waiting for him. He stared at it before smiling at Sam's closed door. He didn't bother pushing his luck in terms of talking to Sam, the fact that the door was closed deterred him, but the hot chocolate brought a lightness to his chest he hadn't felt in a while.

* * *

It wasn't easy to fall asleep that night. Though the shutters and windows were nailed shut, debris still banged against them and the wind roared so loudly it masked all other noise, even to his enhanced ears, leaving Steve especially on edge. Usually he'd be able to hear Sam's breathing from his room but he couldn't hear anything now and it left him blinking into the darkness. Just as he was about to get up and check on him he heard his door creak open. He sat up and squinted only to see Sam there. He crossed the room and silently slipped into the bed beside Steve.

"My room's too cold." Sam mumbled in way of an explanation, not that Steve minded. He laid down beside the other man, pulling the covers up to both of their necks. Steve wanted to move closer and pull Sam to him, wrap an arm around him and hold him close, keep him warm, but he didn't know if that was welcome so he stayed rigid and tense staring at the back of Sam's head. After a moment, Sam sighed with frustration. Steve felt his body scooting closer to him until his back was pressed to Steve's chest. The larger man relaxed before putting an arm around Sam's waist and pulling him closer, wrapping him in as much body heat as he could transfer to him. Sam sighed again, this time with contentment as Steve nuzzled his head into his neck, his hair brushing lightly against his skin causing Sam to shiver.

"I'm still mad at you." Sam mumbled, intertwining his fingers with Steve's thrown across his hip.

"I know." Steve replied just as quietly, the roaring wind outside almost drowning out their voices even though they were right beside each other. Steve was fine with that as long as he could hold Sam safe and sound in his arms.

* * *

When he woke in the morning, Sam was no longer in the bed but Steve could hear him bustling about in the kitchen. He got out of bed and brushed his teeth before walking into the kitchen. Surprisingly, Sam had made breakfast. Steve recognized the biscuit like rolls as fried dumplings and the fried fish, onion mixture as saltfish. There was also some sautéed corned beef along with pancakes spread out on the table.

Sam was standing by the island, tending to the forget-me-nots whose vase was now cracked on account of Steve's outburst.

"Did you throw these out?" Sam asked upon noticing Steve.

"Yeah, thought they were a lost cause." Steve replied, not wanting to admit he had just been so mad at both Sam and himself that he hadn't wanted to look at them.

"Nah, they're just neglected. My fault. They're not too far gone yet." Sam replied, giving Steve a small smile as he sat across from him at the table. His plate was full of half eaten food.

"So, are you not mad at me anymore?" Steve asked.

"I'm not as mad at you as I am at myself." Sam replied with a shrug.

"I know why I'm mad at me, but why are you mad at yourself?" Steve asked in confusion.

"The whole Atlas complex I threw shit at you for? I've been doing it." Steve searched his head over what Sam could possibly feel guilty about. And then it hit him: Rhodey.

"I haven't talked to you about it because I know what you'll say. I've been telling myself it's not my fault half the time, the other half I've been beating myself up and I don't... my head space right now is just... I know you want to talk but I'm not good company. I took my anger at myself out on you."

"But you get to be mad at me too for my actions, Sam. I've made so many mistakes."

"We've all made mistakes. It's why we're here. Some of us may have made bigger mistakes than others but all of our actions led to our situation now one way or another. I just... I don't want to be mad at myself. I don't want to be mad at you. I don't want to fight with you." Steve nodded in response.

"I don't want us to fight either. Whatever happens, you're one of the most important people in the world to me and right now you're my number one priority." Sam made a noise of disbelief causing Steve to straighten in his seat.

"I'm serious. I feel like we're drifting and I don't want that, I never want to lose you. I want to use this time to relearn each other if we need to, get back to being _us_." He said, staring Sam in the eyes so he knew he wasn't joking.

"What does "us" even look like?" Sam asked somewhat helplessly.

"I know what I want, I want to be with you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. But if you don't want that, I'm fine being your friend as long as you're in my life at all." Sam stared up at him.

"What about Sharon?"

"It was a stupid mistake. No, it was a decision. A dumb one. I don't know what I was thinking. I was still smarting over you and then Peggy died. Sharon and I talked before we left South Africa and we decided it's not going to happen again. We're better as friends."

"And Bucky?"

"Bucky and I only ever kissed once when we were teenagers because we were curious. Nothing romantic has happened between us. I know I've had tunnel vision when it comes to him. I'm stepping back, he's a grown man, he can make decisions for himself." Steve said, with a nod. Bucky had told him as much when he told Steve his decision to go under the ice.

"I want to be with you, Steve. Romantically. I just... I know what I said in Tonsberg. You're right, it was just the best excuses I could come up with because I'm the one who wasn't ready. I'm still not ready. I need time." Steve nodded in response.

"As it happens, we've got loads of it here." He replied. Sam glanced up at him through his eyelashes before giving him a small smile again.

"I'll wait for you. I got a lot of patience." Steve continued, reaching across the table to hold Sam's hand in his.

They weren't out of the woods. They'd probably still hit bumps in the road and they may even fight again but Steve knew they'd come back together in the end, he knew they weren't too far gone.


End file.
